Sisters
by KatFay
Summary: She was like stone, a frozen flower, when it came to school. Oh she’d tell you what you wanted to hear, how she loved her classes and teachers. She never spoke of her friends, the ones that she loved. She was Fleur.


**Disclaimer:** Not mine

* * *

I watched her go off to school every year for as long as I could remember. I watched her go off to that school that she said even I could blend in. She said I would love it there. She never said why she always cried when she came home. She never answered when father asked why she didn't bring home a nice young man. She was like stone, a frozen flower, when it came to school. Oh she'd tell you what you wanted to hear, how she loved her classes and teachers. She never spoke of her friends, the ones that she loved. She was Fleur.

* * *

I lied behind me smiles. I lied to my little sister, the only one in the world I truly cared about. I told my parents about my outstanding marks, about the latest spell learnt. Then there was unsent letters. They were always addressed to Gabrielle. They spoke of the horrors I faced for being veela at school. I didn't want her to go there. I wanted her to go somewhere else, somewhere where she was safe. I knew better, though, where could she be safe from mankind. Every summer she always asks when she'll be able to follow me and go to school. It makes me want to cry. I don't want my sister going there; I don't even want her to want to go there. She doesn't understand. I wonder if she ever will.

* * *

I watched the tears fall from her face. Even when she cried she was beautiful. Mother had died when I was little, so having never seen a full or even half blood veela I thought she was the prettiest. Many men agreed with me. I didn't know why she was crying, I never could bring up the courage to ask. I know she cried when she read the letters she kept in that box under her bed. Where they from her friends that we never heard about? If so, why did they make her cry? I didn't know, but I wanted to find out. Father was taking Fleur out to get something for school. I'd be alone at home, I could look then.

* * *

She didn't know that I knew she was there. She didn't know that I knew what she was thinking, for I had thought those things too. Mother kept a diary with letters addressed to her 'Flower'. I had once read them and found out the truth that had been so cleverly concealed from me. She didn't know that when Father called I left the box out on purpose. She didn't know that I had shifted the letters so that the earliest where on top. She didn't know that I had done this for her. She would never know I think.  
  
_Dear Gabrielle,  
  
I miss you so much little sister. School is wonderful, well, the classes are. The students and teachers look at me as if I'm some kind of monster. Then men look at me as though they only wanted me for my body. Their lust scares me. I'm only a child; I don't understand the ways of the world. I read more of Mother's diary. I'll let you read it some day, it contains information you need. She speaks of how men wouldn't care if you were only five if you were beautiful. She was prettier then us. She faced much more then us. She didn't go to school. She didn't face the older students feeling you up in the hallways. She didn't face the girls calling you a bitch amongst other things. She didn't face the sneers and the catcalls. You will. You will my sister and there is nothing I can do about it. You once said being part veela was a blessing, you could look better then the other little girls during dress up and pretend tea. There is that aspect of it, but you are still to young for you to realize what will come when they start to envy your beauty. Being veela is more of a curse then a blessing.  
  
Fleur  
_  
I stared at the letter reading it again. Then I grabbed the next one and read the horrors within. As if she had already decided I would never read these she became freer with her words. She explained the vagueness of the first letter and as I grabbed more letters I wish she hadn't. I almost wish that I hadn't grabbed the box and read her letters. Then the door crept open. I looked up. There was Fleur. She looked at the letters in my hand and the open box. She nodded, mutely and tried to smile. Then she walked out of her room. I followed her outside into the rain, like I always had. She didn't lead me to the willow like she usually did though.

* * *

Two girls stood in the rain. Their silver hair was plastered to their skin just like their soaked clothes. One was taller and older; she looked at the sky with sadness and no shred of hope. The other was young and small. She watched the sky with the look of one who was treading on their last hope. You would think that they were regular sisters, standing in the rain. They were not. One leaned down and looked at her sister.  
  
"Hope is the denial of reality. (1) I guess by hoping that it will get better means we are denying reality." She said sadly.  
  
"If we didn't have hope, why would we keep looking for tomorrow?" the younger asked. They were both crying. Crying for the world now, crying for the world as it had been, and crying for the world as it would become. They had hope though, and they had each other. Somehow, somewhere, someway they would make it through the horrors of their reality.

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**A/N:** A short one-shot about Fleur and her little sister.  
  
1. The quote is from Margaret Weis, Dragons of Winter Night


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